The Honesty Actualization
by teoriapostmoderna
Summary: "The simple and familiar act of sitting on the couch, whether at his or her home, was a constant in both of their lives. Conversations took place there, nine times out of ten accompanied by a cup of tea or several at a time. [...] Everything was the same as always, except for two details." For Marina. Happy Birthday!


**A/N: **_A very happy birthday to Marina (xLostInTheSun)! Hope you like... whatever this is. I have no idea why a fanfiction taking place during the Christmas holidays took form in my head in May, but... well, I'm random like that._

_Thank you to my beta Melanie._

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**The Honesty Actualization**

The simple and familiar act of sitting on the couch, whether at his or her home, was a constant in both of their lives. Conversations took place there, nine times out of ten accompanied by a cup of tea − or several at a time. Their first kiss happened while they were sitting on her couch, and many others followed on either of them. One time, it was where a kiss spontaneously sparked into Seven minutes in heaven and Amy had placed the blame on − or rather, she thanked − the liquorice tea they had bought at the farmer's market. Sheldon tasted so delicious and she couldn't contain a sigh as he found his way to second base.

Everything was the same as always, except for two details. One, they were not in Pasadena, California but in Galveston, Texas. And two, Sheldon had a child sitting on his lap − it was the only way to describe it, she thought. He wasn't hugging him or anything similar to that; his nephew was sitting on his legs and he was holding him in place by his torso, his hands carefully but firmly holding him. He was deeply focused on his task but Amy could tell by his stiff body and contracted face that something just didn't... sit right with him. She wasn't exactly at ease, either. She never had to deal with a baby before. And while she was willing to try out, the whole premise was throwing her for a loop.

Oh, and there was a third detail: the blanket was spread on the cushions. Sheldon had done that himself before they both sat on it a number of times since they got there for the holidays. She tried to get an answer out of him as to why he kept doing that, but he wouldn't answer.

It all had started when Mary announced to Sheldon that, being Christmas night and with him there so why not take the chance, he had to go to church with her for that one time during the year as they had stipulated years before.

"At least you got out of your deal with your mother" he complained to his girlfriend shortly after as he took her aside for a word in private.

_The deal that had us meet, you mean?_ She smiled at him and he smiled back, slightly tilting his head to the side. She would never get tired of those eyes boring into her so unashamedly. He was never the one to break eye contact first, and she... she couldn't get enough of it. Amy then wondered if he got why she smiled after his comment.

They didn't realize Sheldon's mother was observing them at a few steps distance.

"What if you stay at home with Georgie while we go to church, huh? Both of you. You'll get to know your nephew more" she said, pointing at the little boy that was playing with a lock of her mother's hair.

Holding her son closer to her body as a natural response to what she had just heard, Missy intervened: "Mom, this is my son you're talking about."

The younger woman then cleared her throat.

"Where are you going with this?" Mary asked, her clear tone of voice resonating in the room.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do" she said, slowly, raising her eyebrows at the younger woman. "Anyway, Pete is waiting for me at church and I need to go get Meemaw" she added, putting an end to the discussion.

"Don't you worry, Missy. They might realize what they have to do if they want one, too, ya know?"

Her husband came down the stairs, snorting at his own words. He stopped that as soon as he had three pairs of Cooper eyes staring at him. Amy silently stood anchored to her place, trying to disappear.

That throwaway comment made everyone fall into an unplanned Silence Game. It was still going as they were alone in the house, sitting on that couch. George on Sheldon's lap, an oppressive elephant between them. Amy had lost the sense of the passing time staring into the Christmas lights going on and off at regular intervals from within the unlit empty room they were in and the ones outside in the streets − she thought that being in the dark would help the baby fall asleep, but that wasn't being the case.

She wasn't bothered by the situation at all − she loved her boyfriend and what they had was precious, as much as that sounded like a stupid clichè. But it was the boring truth. She was happy with the state of their relationship. The way Sheldon lowered her on her apartment's couch to nibble on her neck was so overwhelming she wasn't sure she was ready for more. In fact, it seemed like it was her boyfriend these days who tried to turn her into putty into his hands more than she ever dared to. She had thought for a while that sex was going to be an all-solving solution to everything, and that illusion almost disrupted their relationship at the very base. All she really needed was to know that Sheldon would be there for her, but that was still an open wound they were trying to heal. She had tried to explain that to Penny and Bernadette, but she could tell from their stunted responses that they didn't get it. It was okay, they didn't have to. What worked for them didn't have to work for other people. In turn, others didn't have to understand.

The real problem was when people made comments about it. As much as they both tried to brush it off, all those words accumulated like mountains ready to crumble on their shoulders. Which was what had happened a mere week prior: Leonard made an innocuous remark, Howard jumped at the chance, Raj delivered the final blow, Bernadette and Penny laughed and Sheldon snapped, telling everyone to shut the hell up. He then took her by the hand into his room, where they spent the night, falling asleep face to face. He never let go of her hand − she could still feel the lingering sensation of his lips on her palm as a way of saying goodnight.

Hearing that from his family of all people turned a bit hard to swallow. She didn't honestly think there was this type of pressure on them. Or was it really pressure? Was it just a passing joke? Was anyone expecting them to have children?

If these thoughts were consuming her now, she didn't want to imagine the turmoil going on in Sheldon's head in that exact moment. But she really had nothing to say to him, either. Sure, she might have gave all those things a passing thought here and there. But thinking about it in concrete terms? She couldn't ask him to commit to something she wasn't sure she did want herself. And even if she did want something, he couldn't be the only one to compromise. That was a tough lesson they had to go through already. And even this all lead to the harsh question for the ages: sex. She had reached a conclusion for herself, but talking to him after he came back made her realize just how much pressure he was putting on himself, personal desires notwithstanding. "Isn't this expected of me?" he said at that time.

Why things had to be this complicated? She couldn't help asking herself that useless question, which over time didn't turn out to be that useless; in Sheldon, she had found everything in one neat lanky package: a friend, a boyfriend, a meeting of minds. It all had been too much too soon and in hindsight she could say without a doubt she did understand where he had been coming from in his approach with their relationship since they turned official.

If there was something she worried by, it was the undeniable fear that the happiness they had build for themselves could disintegrate like a sand castle at the turn of the tide. Ultimately, nothing can keep two people together.

"I'm going to put him in the stroller" Sheldon told the room more than her as he got up.

The way he was handling his nephew's tiny body was clinical but careful − he never took his hand away from his back to sustain it. After he tucked him in, he guided the stroller close to the couch before sitting again, much closer to her than before. Shoulder to shoulder.

He breathed in once, and a second time, and then said: "Please, just hold me."

His toneless voice couldn't hide the deep longing in his request and, turning to face him after those hours in silence, she took notice of the tired look on his face. Before she could respond to his request, however, he threw himself at her. He had this way of acting upon his instincts that both frightened her and made her feel at ease at the same time. As much as they had come so far, keeping things bottled up until they just... burst was a old habit to let go. And, like every habit, they fell into it without even realizing it. In that moment, it was clear how much work they still had to do. She hadn't said a word for all those hours either, after all. Nor did she look him once in the eye.

Reaching her arms out to hold him back, she told him: "It's okay."

"I'm a big baby" he sighed, lowering his head on her shoulder. "I don't think I will ever be able to give you what you want."

"And what do you think I want?" she said, her voice but a whisper.

"A family" he answered plainly, in a way between a question and a statement.

"I want to be with you" was the first thing to come out of Amy's mouth, straight from her thoughts.

Sheldon immediately followed with: "I want you to never leave and stay with me."

Little George had not fallen asleep yet; they could both hear his vocalizes, his uncertain first steps in talking. He had a certain liking for the _da_ syllable.

"Don't we want the same thing then?" she questioned him, encouraging him.

He didn't answer.

"What do you want me to say, Sheldon? Please talk to me."

His answer came muffled by the cardigan he had his face pressed on: "I... don't know..."

The juxtaposition between the fact that they were pressing their bodies against each other as hard as they could and yet exposing themselves through words seemed like this unreachable, impossible task was hard to take. She wanted to reach out − she knew he wanted to, as well. They were forcing themselves to actually talk about their feelings − _what an ugly word, isn't it?_ − after what had happened months before. The world of difference between intentions and actions was key, though.

"If you want me to say I will always remain the same person through and through and never change my mind, I... I can't guarantee that. I can't be certain of anything and don't commit the mistake of thinking I'm naive and that doesn't scare me because it does. A lot. I'm not the same person I was five years ago. Neither are you."

"I wonder about that..." he mumbled as he was drawing lines on her back with his palms.

"What do you mean?"

Sheldon went on: "Did you really change? Why do I love you if you have changed?"

She shook her head. "We're not set in stone, Sheldon. The human brain−"

"I know" he cut her short. "And I know I do love you."

Not that knowing in this particular occasion really mattered, but Amy didn't understand why those words sinked every time into her heart, making no sound, with the way he uttered them, like it was the most obvious thing in the world so there was no necessity to say them − but he did anyway. Because they're the truth.

"I love you, Sheldon" she whimpered, snuggling between his neck and shoulder, taking his scent in. He smelled of cookies he helped his mother bake earlier that day.

"You don't have to say it back" he blurted out.

"I wanted to."

Being in her boyfriend's arms made her feel so at peace that every once in a while the irritating doubt of how much her mood was dependent on him creeped into her thoughts. There is nothing worse than a double-edged sword.

As she was asking him if there was anything she could do for him, Sheldon's voice mixed with hers wondering: "Can I ask you something?"

After a few seconds of silence, Amy gently tugged at his arms. Even if in a dark room, she wanted to talk to him face to face now. And so they did.

"You first" he said.

She bit her lips, gathering up her words. "What your brother in law said earlier..." She stopped. "I was wondering if that made you feel uncomfortable."

"No" was his immediate response. "Why? You were?"

"I..." she hesitated.

"I don't care about that man" Sheldon said. "He doesn't know me. He doesn't know anything, actually. I still wonder why my sister chose him as his mate" he then pondered. "Well... I guess they complete each other, in their own... ignorant way."

Not sure himself of what he had just said, a dubious look clear on his face, he abruptly stopped talking. Amy's lips left a kiss on his right cheek after they had parted into a full smile, draping her arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on her hips as usual, something that Amy had joked about a few months after they had started kissing. If she said she didn't like that, though, it would be one big lie. It made her feel appreciated. Loved. Slightly nervous, at times. His attentions made her shiver more than once, of which he took notice ever single time − she was sure of that from the way his kisses deepened after her reaction.

"What about you?" she asked him.

Sheldon took her arms, removed them from his body, then moved himself a bit farther back on the couch, still facing her, leaving space between their bodies. He was there, sitting right in front of her, and she was missing his touch already.

_Love does make you stupid_, she cracked a joke at herself.

"I was thinking of sleeping together" was his opening line.

Amy furrowed her brows. "We do that already, we have sleepovers."

He opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. "No, I mean, I..." His eyes traveled all over the dark room, from the tree to the stairs, before finally focusing on her nose. "I want to try and see where it goes."

_Oh. Oh!_

"We can't" she spouted.

"What?"

Amy slowly raised her arms and vaguely pointed in the stroller's direction, where George had fallen asleep and was lightly snoring. He had a bit of a cold.

"I didn't mean now" he clarified, taken aback.

"Oh... oh. Of course not" she laughed awkwardly. "I was wondering about that."

Sheldon exaggerated a closemouthed smile to make fun of her which made her snicker. He then regained his plain expression. "I just wanted to give you time to think about it. Settle into the idea. I took my time, it's only fair you do the same. Just tell me when you want to" he talked as if he was describing the changing of the seasons. "Two weeks notice."

Maybe it really was as natural as that.

"Deal" she said.

Her boyfriend knew her too well. Well, he did know himself.

"While we wait for everyone to come home..." she started.

Sheldon looked at her worried.

"...shouldn't we start discussing details? You know..." She breathed in. "How far do we want to go, where to... do it, the timing, the clothes, do you like candles or not? Should we shower before and after? No no, definitely after and possibly before, too. In that case, which shower gel should I use? Smells can affect the body's response during intercourse, so I−"

"Amy" he called her quietly. "I drew up an addendum to the Relationship Agreement and we can decide every aspect of this together as soon as tomorrow morning, if you'd like" he reassured her. "Now, please don't raise your voice or you might upset George."

She had completely forgot about the baby boy resting in the stroller mere inches from them, as if he had disappeared out of her mind and out of her thoughts. Uncle Sheldon was such a peculiar sight: he didn't really care at the end of the day, but he was strict to everyone who didn't follow standard protocol. _So the usual_, Amy concluded.

"I'll think about it, then" she told him.

There's no real way of going at things in the end − which was still holding true for her life, his life and their relationship which joined them at the crossroads.

In the deep of the Christmas night, lulled by the tree lights, they succumbed to sleep soon after, one resting on the other, only to be woken up when Sheldon's family came home from mass. She didn't believe in deities and this wasn't a Christmas miracle − poppycock as her boyfriend would put it − but it felt like something was lifted off of her and she could feel like their relationship, between highs and lows, had reached that moment of quiet peace and routine that for others meant boredom, but for her and possibly Sheldon, too, stood as the standpoint from which they looked at the rest of humanity from: with slight interest... but really, their way was the better one through and through, as far as Amy Farrah Fowler and Sheldon Lee Cooper were concerned.

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**A/N:** _Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Leave a review if you'd like._


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